"Salutations, Lieutenant Strongarm!" Flight Leftenant Qual came bouncing into Comm Central, located in the penthouse suite of the Landoor Plaza.

            Armstrong looked up from the printout he was scanning. "Good morning, Qual. What's the good word?"

            "If you mean news of Captain Clown, I am afraid the word is a bad one," said Qual. "Or no word at all, to be more exact. Have you received intelligence of him?"

            "Heard nothing," said Tusk-anini, stationed behind a bank of electronic intelligence monitors. "Best guess is rebels holding captain prisoner."

            "This comes of acting like the hero of some holodrama," said Armstrong. He slapped the printout down on the desktop with a degree of force that underscored his frustration. "Going out to find the rebel camp was like asking to be taken prisoner. We can only hope the rebels have sense enough to keep him alive. As long as he's alive, at least we've got a chance to rescue him."

            "Well spoken, Strongarm," said Qual. "With resources of this company, such should be within ready capability. But a clever plan must be made before commencing, no?"

            "Before even that, we have to figure out where the rebels are," said Armstrong. "Of course, the captain went squiring off without bothering to leave an itinerary. I suppose he went out and followed his nose, so maybe we could find them the same way. But even if we find their main camp, there's no guarantee the captain's there..."

            "No, but that a good place to start," said Tusk-anini. "We find rebel camp, then good chance we also find somebody know where captain is."

            "Tusk-anini speaks reason," said Qual, flashing his allosaurus grin. "You dispatch your best jungle scouts, and when you find the rebel camp, you will find Captain Clown."

            "Best jungle scouts," mused Armstrong. "Now there's a specialty we haven't had to identify before. The Gambolts would probably be good at that. Who else...?"

            "Yours truly was hatched and nurtured in an environment not dissimilar to this world's, I hasten to inform you," said Qual. "I would eagerly volunteer to direct such a hazarding, if you wish to make use of my native competencies."

            Armstrong rubbed his chin, then said, "I'd have to run that past Lieutenant Rembrandt-she's officially in command in the captain's absence. The question would be whether a foreign officer should lead Legion troops."

            "If Qual best for doing job, why he not do it?" asked Tusk-anini.

            Armstrong shook his head. "That's your problem, Tusk-anini: You've never really understood why we in the military have to do things a certain way..."

            "Understand perfectly," grunted Tusk-a-nini. "Too polite to say what think about it."

            "I admire your support, Voltonish friend," Qual said, grinning. "But Lieutenant Strongarm is correct. Shackle of command must be followed. We shall request approval of this plan from Lieutenant Rembrandt. Perhaps, though, it is best to approach her with a fully realized stratagem. Oh Layer-of-Eggs, do our computers indicate which legionnaires are from planets similar to this in terrain?"

            "aghidpgtie," said Mother, who had been doing her best to ignore the presence of others in her work area until addressed directly. But she began punching search parameters into her keyboard, and soon Qual and Armstrong were working on the tentative rescue plan. It was a wild idea, even for the Omega Mob, but as he reviewed the plan, Armstrong began to think it might work...